It was in 1974 opening day of the shotgun season. I went with my uncle and cousin to SE Ohio in an area known as Ohio Power Land. It was in the foothills of the Allegheny Mountains and public hunting. We had scouted the area two weeks before the season and I had built a ground blind on the side of the mountain overlooking a trail about 40 yds away. There was a log that had fallen over the trail and i figured that a deer would hesitate just before he jumped over it. About 15 minutes after shooting time a doe came down the trail and stopped in front of the log. I shot and it started running so I shot again. My uncle heard the shot and came over so we started trailing the deer. It went about 40 yards and dropped I hit him with both shots, one was a lung hit the other took the fur off of the top of his back. To this day I'm not sure which shot hit what, but I was on cloud nine. As I recall, the temps were comfortable and the sun was shinning.The next day my uncle ad cousin hunted while I watched. I walked back to the spot where I had field dressed the deer and another deer had deficated on the gut pile...weird. Anyone ever see that before? (Maybe they didn't get along.)

I shot at a doe, didn't see it go down, and never checked for blood. I was young, and assumed I missed, because I always had before. My dad lost his mind over me not checking for blood, it was a learning moment, and drug me back out to check the area. The doe was laying about ten feet from where I shot her. Now I check for blood even if I "know" I missed,

Respect - don't take it, unless you are willing to give it.Responsibility - don't give it, unless you are willing to take it.

My first was a DOE, not a doe. I still proud of it! Just a couple of weeks shy of Thanksgiving, 17 years old, I hunted 3 years before I got my first. @4pm on a Saturday afternoon (Sundays were forbidden then) dry, cloudy and cool. 35lbs fiberglass recurve, cedar shaft arrows with broadheads and bleeder blades, green and white fletchings, finger shooting (I have never used a release) I was seated at the base of an apple tree, realtree camo. I was the tree. She came joyfully to the apples. the bow was too long to shoot seated, and I eased up to my knees using only my thighs. I must have held that shot for 10 minutes or more, waiting for her to come around the tree enough to get the hit I needed. She locked eyes with me the moment after the arrow was in flight. Range was maybe 8-9 yards She must have seen it coming because she was already moving as it hit. She crowhopped once and ran with my arrow sticking from her right side just behind the shoulder. She ran a lot further than I thought possible! I figured she would fail fast, but she went more like 300 yards or better. (I kept bumping her, because I didn't know any better) me right on her trail, I could hear her, and sometimes see her, as I chased her through the woods, doing my best to not lose her. There was something very primal about it. I felt like a wild indian running down my kill. From that point on, there was no turning back, I will hunt deer, until I can't do it anymore, or they close the lid on my coffin, which ever come first. .

The only real difference between a good tracker and a bad tracker is observation. All the same data is present for both. The rest is understanding what you are seeing.

I was 16 years old hunting on public land in Putnam County , NY (now sadly a condominium development). Had a spike walk walk out 15 yards in front of me. I had a 12 ga slug gun and tried to fire right behind the shoulder as taught. But I started shaking with the excitement which the buck saw- making me even more nervous. When I fired it took off running straight away, and stopped at the edge of a swamp 100 yards away to turn and look at me. Instead of staying put, I started walking towards it and it ran into the swamp. My father hearing the shot came over, I walked up to the spot and found hair and blood, so we started step by step tracking. However, once we got into the swamp, the trail become more and more scant and we lost it. We did spend a lot of time circling about the last clue, but never found the deer or any other sign and I felt bad about it.

A week later, my father looked around that part of the swamp again, and found my buck, it had expired in a pool and had sunk out of sight, he was barely able to see an ear and spike on the surface of the water. From the wound, it looked like I had struck too far forward and at an angle, only getting one lung.He did remove the spikes as my first "trophy". Later that day I had my first "keeper" kill when a pair of does passed by the same ground stand.

Other than a couple of clean misses, it was the only deer I have ever lost, and I learned a lot about not pressing, tracking carefully, and perhaps looking in unexpected places.

Day two of the 2002 Missouri gun season. We overslept because the alarms did not go off so instead of going to where I wanted to go, I went to the the edge of our woods where I had seen some deer the previous afternoon.

About 9 a.m. a doe came running across our south pasture with a buck chasing her hard. They went into a wooded draw and the buck came out the other side into our middle pasture and stoped giving me a perfect broadside shot. He looked like he had a rack like an elk and his head was framed by the rising sun, almost in a halo. At least that is what I remember.

When I shot him with my Savage 300 WSM he went back into the wooded draw and came out the other side walking real slow, at which point I put another round into him. When I came up on him he had a little five point rack, talk about ground shrinkage.

Funny part to this story is; we can drive down easily into our pastures. When the buck crossed back through the wooded draw to our south pasture he went down a big ditch then back up. We could have easily driven down and picked him up where he finally fell. But me in the excitement put a drag line on him, and drug him back down the ditch and then up again and brought him out into the pasture where I originally shot him. A whole lot of work which I realized later did not need to be done.

“There are two spiritual dangers in not owning a farm. One is the danger of supposing that breakfast comes from the grocery, and the other that heat comes from the furnace.” Aldo Leopold

I was 16 and so was my cousin. We had a bet at who would get their deer first.

My dad and uncle were going to put on a slow stalk/drive to me and my cousin.

Uncle explained to me where to go; overlooking a wooded valley with a stream.

Spotted a buck following the stream and heading to my cousin down in that snow covered valley.

Several minutes later he starts shooting and missed like 5x.

Buck ran to the base of the hill directly below me.

I shot and dropped him with a Remington 870.

He got back up and started up the hill to me and I missed about 3 follow up shots from all the excitement.

1 more shot and it was done. A 9pt.

Cousin came over and asked where he had hit it. Our uncle pointed out a few trees he had shot; never hitting the buck.

Uncle shook my hand and congratulated me. My father walked up and said he was going to keep following the does he was tracking in the snow. Came back awhile later. I don't recall him ever mentioning anything about my first deer. He passed away but I still wonder why there was no remarks from him about that deer. I think I know but like to be sure of the reason.

My first deer was Thanksgiving weekend of 2007. I'd been hunting since I was 14 (1996), but hadn't shot anything. I'd missed plenty and lost 1 small 6 point buck that I'd actually shot, but I had yet to make my first clean kill. That 2007 season had been a long one for me as I'd spent many many hours in various stands between where I'm living now and the property that my dad and brothers hunt back home without even SEEING a deer, much less getting a shot off. I was home sleeping on my parents couch (my girlfriend had my old room) when my little brother woke me up at 4:00 sunday morning to see if I was going to go out with him. I figured I'd give it another try. We got in the stand on a super cold frosty morning about 6:00 am. At just about 7:15 I heard noise out in the cut cornfield. I looked over to see not 1 or 2, but 8 does beelining for the trail entrance near my stand. They came busting into the woods, hit the trail my stand was setting over, and coralled up in the small clearing in front of me just like cattle in a round pen. I was at full draw and literally had my choice of about 5 deer that were all within 10 yards. I settled my top pin on the biggest doe and triggered the release. She jumped and mule kicked as she took off and the rest of the deer just exploded in all directions. She only made it about 25 yards before piling up. I found out later that the deer had come in behind my brothers stand, but he couldn't get a shot. Knowing I hadn't seen any deer all season, he actually starting growling and snarling like a dog which spooked them out into the field and right past my stand. We had her dressed and hung and even made it to church that day! One of my favorite hunting memories by far. Especially since my little bro got to score an assist.

"When a hunter is in a tree stand with high moral values and with the proper hunting ethics and richer for the experience, that hunter is 20 feet closer to God." ~Fred Bear